


SBI eat at Mcdonald's and hunt for hungry entities

by Kyle0beez



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Comedy, Dadza, Death of Characters, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Ghost Hunters, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, It depends on the way you see it, Nobody really important, Protector! Technoblade, Protector! Wilbur Soot, Sleepy Bois Inc. - Freeform, Trip - Freeform, Violence, bc i like bloody shit, firearms, it's really cute actually, just a little, like a family, mention of murder, paranormal exposure, slight injury, they love eachother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyle0beez/pseuds/Kyle0beez
Summary: SBI can be considered many things: a family, a company, a group of people with a very questionable past in justice. But, something that is common knowledge is that they do not fail in service.Aka: The world-renowned ghost-hunting group is hired for a simple blanket-burning service for a condo owner. They have a strange taste for fun.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 18
Kudos: 181





	1. realization of Surreality

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, okay, I’ve been working on this for as long as I’d like and I can’t take it
> 
> Btw, this story may have some triggers, as it actively talks about death and has a very quick mention of vomiting. But it’s good to be warned, even though everything is written light form.
> 
> Ah, some nice things to make explicit: Tommy is Phil's biological son (im so sorry) and wilbur was hired before Technoblade in the SBI group.
> 
> I hope you like it a little

**Wilbur woke from his nap with drool dripping from his** mouth and his head thrown back.

The drone of the plane's turbine against your ears makes the deafness less uncomfortable. Although Will and the entire team were used to the sensation, enough that no one else would find it a burden during long flights.

His body froze in the same position in which he woke up, as if he had been sleeping for hours. However, his sense of time seems distorted when he hears Tommy's voices in a heated discussion with Techno - heated, say Tommy was whispering loudly and Technoblade was whispering an answer or two - just as they were when he slept.

The entire plane practically empty for a trip at such an unusual time, no one really seemed to mind the unnecessary speech of the youngest boy in the group. The cold air and the noise of the flying plane almost dragged him to sleep again, but the harsh voice left him, without realizing it, concentrated.

Wilbur was caught between the sizzle of Tommy's voice, who knelt on the seat by the window, showing gray clouds under the dark blue sky that enveloped them, turning back, Techno being the target of his energy and bargaining, as Wilbur slept and he would not dare to wake him up given some 'traumatic experiences'. Phil on his other side, aisle seat, trying to control Tommy's kinetic energy that could light the entire city.

"I just saying that I'm excited to see Techno speak Spanish!" Tommy exclaims louder justifying himself to Phil's pleas.

"They don't speak Spanish in Brazil, Tommy" Techno speaks frustrated.

Wilbur knows how pale Techno tends to be, as Blade's travel sickness was a little uncomfortable. Horrible when they dealt with turbulence. The way that, if he didn't hold back, he would throw up in the face of our brat. It was not beautiful to see.

"Tommy, please." Philza whispers. He stretches to put a hand on his son's shoulders and force him down.

Tommy opens his mouth, he knows that because he always swallows more air to speak than is necessary. But, Will is tired and just wants to sleep for a few more hours.

Wilbur then grunted and slipped over Phil's shoulder. The man's arm, previously stretched, around Will's shoulders until he supported his elbow and brushed his fingers through the untidy curls on his head. Tommy stopped breathing as if it helped.

The silence lasted a long five seconds, before Tommy launched another argument at Techno, who grunted just like Wilbur.

The journey would be long.

* * *

Wilbur is getting a headache, but he can't stop laughing. Your smile is already starting to hurt.

Tommy is laughing for a few minutes and Techno is so embarrassed next to him that even Phil is unable to help himself. He made about three sudden stops while trying to hold his laughter in the car.

The SBI decided to take a van after the flight left. Tommy was - finally and inconveniently - sleeping in Phil's arms who was having difficulty holding him while dragging a wheeled suitcase.

Phil had one of those father instincts that treats his son as a four-year-old in vulnerable situations.

However, Wilbur found it amazing how easily a sixteen-year-old boy could be carried and be thin when they actively only eat fast food.

Techno insisted to wake him up, he said, to take less work. Even when Tommy looked exhausted in Phil's arms, he didn't even move with the movement that was clearly not comfortable. Will tried to argue childishly, rejoicing at the blunt responses of a sleepless Techno for twenty-six hours.

"You didn't have to put up with him talking for ten hours, Wilbur!" Techno almost growls.

They got into an argument as they descended the plane's exit stairs. People dispersing when they reach the concrete floor, others passing by with strange looks at the dynamics presented. Wilbur is so used to moments like this that he doesn't even care. Techno too distracted to notice. Too early for Phil to intervene.

The plane reached its destination when the sun had just risen and was already affecting the heavy clothes Will liked to wear.

The fight only ended when Tommy tapped Phil on the shoulder and came down from the embrace. His face was completely wrinkled and his eyes were tired. He held Phil's hand - always being too quick to wake up and know what to do, automatically, never seeming to suffer from the slowness of lost sleep - without paying attention to the discussion interrupted ago, throwing his weight at Phil as he started walking.

Phil gave the older boys an almost disappointed look and followed.

  
Honestly, that was not the problem.

The situation that brought the group to a crisis of laughter and shame was Techno's attempt to speak Spanish to the woman at the car shop.

Okay, Technoblade hadn't trained Spanish for three years and just knew how to say _'o_ _h caramba''_ and '¿ _Dónde está la biblioteca?'_ with perfection and fluency. Other than that, it was a somewhat crumpled language, and also, it was not the native language of the country.

The confusion was predestined three years ago.

The chaos was due to Techno being socially disastrous and shit talking to other human beings - if Techno were considered a human being, considering how little he sleeps.

For short, Techno rented the wrong car twice - in a way that Wilbur couldn't explain - and about five people arrived to help with the situation, including the manager and an airport employee.

By accident, he almost offended the cashier's wife, calling her stupid, with the wrong context of the sentence. Which was kind of brutal, but they couldn't judge him, considering the strength he clenched his jaw and the brutality he held Phil's arm for some support. It would be tragic if it weren't comical.

In the middle of it, Tommy was spinning on the floor laughing with Wilbur laughing in the background. Phil tried to control the situation in his usual English, even with the wry smile on his face and a choked laugh at each Techno startle with a question directed at him.

They got the van, for the price of Techno's dignity and 18,00 R$ an hour.

Techno threw the big suitcase in the body and Wilbur sat in the front seat next to Phil, who had burst into laughter that he couldn't control. Tommy's taunts barely came out of his mouth while Techno was so red it was almost worrying.

Tommy was now being 'hanged' by Techno who was rubbing his scalp with a closed hand. He looked more amused than bored. The blond curls were bigger than usual, covering the eyes like a fringe without opacity.

 _In a footnote_ : Tommy was refusing to cut his hair unless Wilbur cut himself, which was definitely not going to happen.

Philza caught her breath and hit the horn.

"Brazilian traffic damn." Phil mumbles even though the chaos is happening in the back seat.

Wilbur couldn't be happier.

* * *

The motel was not so difficult to book, without any further unforeseen or social and public shame. Phil solved everything perfectly by being a responsible adult and an internet reservation.

They rented a space with three beds and a simple bathroom. The hotel was not one of the most expensive, but it was also not completely pig compared to others they had to go to.

The room was not so different from what they knew in the UK or the United States, he thought; the color of the walls in faded orange, although well painted, and a glass table, with a telephone taped to the wall, a little to the left of the entrance door could be a little different than usual.

The architecture looked different than what they were used to, too. Although Will barely remembers what it was like to be in his own country given the recurring trips of SBI.

It was a complicated job. Sometimes it didn't pay so well. But the media has always paid off, perhaps. Despite the imminent danger, spirit hunting always ended up being fun. The adrenaline of the investigation and the Scooby-Doo-like rush he attended from time to time.

Being a ghost hunter had its moments.

Despite Tommy's routine, the boy didn't spend the time Will waited scouring the room from top to bottom looking for something interesting. Tommy just put the suitcase that he and Phil shared in the corner without caring about the contents and threw himself on the tidy double bed.

Techno grunted about how he needed to sleep, more moody than usual. Soon he moves with his own backpack and clothes and heads to the bathroom.

Phil doesn't waste a lot of time, opens his suitcase and lodges his travel notebook on the glass table by the door and starts answering some commercial emails that Tommy was not allowed to dream of touching.

Speaking of Tommy, he was already snoring loudly, sprawled on the double bed.

Wilbur is a little bored, however. Standing and the backpack still on his back.

“Sit here, Will. Before you try to blow up the room.” Phil says with an affectionate and playful smile on his face, slapping his hand on a slightly crooked metal chair next to his own. He also looks a little tired, but he knows Phil would only lie if he mentioned it.

Wilbur sits and leans to the side, given that one leg of the chair is shorter than the rest. To tell the truth, it is very different from the UK. It's been years, he doesn't really remember anymore.

He gets distracted, swinging from side to side, thinking about how Techno would be distracted by the noise. He places the backpack on the back of the chair. Put your knees close to your chest and rest your face on the cold surface, your cutting position and he is cross-legged on the seat, looking at Phil.

Sometimes he realizes how much Tommy looks like him, aesthetically. Tommy, talking about his personality, has always been the strange mix between Wilbur and Technoblade.

"It looks like a nice place." Phil keeps looking at the computer, but he realizes that Wilbur has been staring for a while. Of course you understand.

"How is the house?" murmurs.

"It's a condominium, it must be busy, that's a good thing." Phil presses for a few moments before speaking again. "It's a big house, but I don't think it ends up being a problem."

Phil turns the notebook over and Will looks at the house without much effort.

"It's pretty."

He doesn't say much beyond that.

Techno gets out of the shower after five minutes and doesn't say a word. He just trips over to the single bed near the balcony. None of them seem really bothered by the midday light that illuminates the room, despite this being a factor in Techno's insomnia. They are not able to move to close the curtain.

Phil just moves to turn on the air conditioner, but he has one of those thoughtful expressions on his face that Will knows means trouble.

"Are you going to talk to me or aren't you?" Will looks at him and Phil looks confused.

"About what?"

"About what is bothering you. I know that expression where you are forty years older."

"It hurts, Will."

They laugh.

"Tell me."

Philza rocks uncomfortably in his chair, still with the wry smile on his face that seems to be his expression of rest.

They have the attention stolen by Techno who reaches out and closes the curtain that runs loudly. Tommy sighs and Will smiles warmly. The room is dark and he takes advantage of the sensation, giving Phil time.

"I think we need a vacation." Phil says "I feel like we're all a little tired. And I don't judge. Maybe a while won't hurt."

"I don't even remember what ghosts in the UK are like anymore." Phil laughs with a buzz.

"How long has it been since Tommy went to school, Will? Distance learning is not so good. He may miss it."

"I think not."

"Will." Phil is almost whispering, slightly stern.

"What?" Wilbur smiles, Phil's serious look doesn't make him wilt. "Relax, Phil, we're fine, maybe we just need a little time, that's true." Will thinks. "I think Techno misses his own bed."

They don't talk much after that. Phil doesn't look very satisfied, just shows some comments about previous cases and Wilbur mumbles an answer.

He's pretty sure he's slept a few times, as he blinks in a moment and suddenly Phil's hand is on his head, fingers intertwined in the curls, and he's pretty sure it hasn't been there before.

Despite this, Phil remains the same, tired eyes at the computer as he reads more and more. Will worries, he knows Techno too and Tommy pretends not to notice, but Will catches every worry interaction he insists on hiding under the gestures. It's probably Phil who needs the most time.

They have been moving this way for a whole year. Travel after travel. Case after case. It's not necessarily bad, they know why they are in this life.

Of course, they are not the only ghost hunters in the world, only that the SBI has a difference.

They're good. Very good.

And although Wilbur misses playing his guitar without thinking about much later, he knows that none of them are particularly sorry to take that path.

  
It's four o'clock in the afternoon when Phil's phone rings in his pocket. He jumps over the way he was almost dozing and looks at Will, whose eyes were half closed, more asleep than awake. Tommy automatically grumbles and gets up, going to the bathroom. Techno remains asleep and they will not wake you up until everything is ready and tidy to meet customers.

Tommy comes back from the bathroom with hair stuck to his wet face and bored expression.

He thinks Tommy misses Phil. But Wilbur doesn't comment.

* * *

The house is even bigger than the photos showed. Which is surprising.

Wilbur admires the baby blue cement walls inside the car. There are no walls in front of the house, as usual. Just a white gate that is open waiting for them. The yard is grass and gravel and looks very cozy. The garage ramp made of cobblestone blocks that are not badly made, just as a more artistic touch. Wilbur does not know how to express an opinion on this. It just seems like a very beautiful place for someone to have died there, but who is he to judge?

All the windows in the house were closed, and the interior was a mystery. The balcony looked safe and the late afternoon sun was pleasant against the blue and white of the roof. The color palette did not vary from those two main ones.

They parked the van across the street. The neighborhood was empty since they entered the condo, which was a little inconvenient since they were close to a main one.

Tommy and Phil were subtly quiet for a little more than halfway, which was not a good sign.

A couple leaves the house. An older man with gray hair, a wrinkled gray shirt and dirty dirt pants, and a woman in a dress, jeans and sneakers. Wilbur holds a comment. The man looks more sulky than Technoblade without sleep, and as soon as he looks at them across the street, he takes his wife's hand - Wilbur deduces from the data Phil told him earlier - and crosses the street.

Phil gets out of the car with a friendly smile, and he notices Techno placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder in solidarity before leaving. Wilbur leaves with them, without many questions.

The van is gray, and the body has liters of gasoline that they decided to pay for before the meeting and a backpack with 'suspicious content'. Will opens the back door, where Tommy and Techno shared the place, to check the other bags. He arranges the EMF detector inside one of his pockets and heads over to Phil. Tommy is almost too small next to Techno, a mischievous smile on his face.

"He was a child, do you understand?" Wilbur listens when he stands next to Phil. English is rumpled and with little accent. "It is a sad thing that he remains trapped inside the house."

The man grumbles. Debauchery in the look.

Both Techno and Tommy have a start, a change in posture and looks a little suspicious of the man's reaction.

Techno managed to hold his expression of contempt. It was a little difficult for Tommy to hide his annoyance. So Phil had to be quicker to react.

"Tommy, why don't you take a look at the place?" He asks awkwardly.

Tommy's eyes shine and before they process the information, Tommy has already run across the street.

"He looks like a good child" the woman says.

"He is." Phil speaks proudly and Wilbur laughs at the reaction.

The man grumbles again. Techno doesn't really like it.

"Look, I only hired you because this _thing_ is getting in the way of my business. Do you see how empty this condo is?" Phil laughed awkwardly. The woman lowers her head and Will feels a little sorry for her. "Yeah."

"Querido, por favor." She speaks in Portuguese. "Seja, pelo menos, um pouco agradecido."

Wilbur doesn't know what she said, but the reaction is not exactly good.

"I just want you to burn the fucking blanket. It's then job." He rages.

"How do you know that the spirit is connected to the blanket?" Techno asks and a touch of sarcasm is born along with the question. Wilbur smiles with a little mockery.

"This matters?!" He chokes. Wilbur stops laughing. "The only thing I want is for this child to leave. How long can it take?"

"It's none of your business." Techno is serious. Too serious. And the woman puts her hand over her mouth to try to stifle a guilty laugh.

"THERE! So you have more details to give?!" Philza interrupts almost desperately, hands firing, swinging in front of his face as if to clear the situation. He watched pride rise even more on Techno's face.

Wilbur left smiling silly, letting Phil and Techno handle the situation themselves. The red man with angry suspicion.

He turns on the EMF and crosses the street.

Despite the late afternoon, the yard is still warm. He can feel the high temperature of the grass against his sneakers. Will walks over the rocks to the garage and reaches the concrete, it looks like a small warehouse. He raises the EMF. Nothing. Will hits them a few times on the hand, the strange behavior of the device makes him a little confused, but nothing indicates that it is broken.

The garage light is off.

Will goes through the door to the room. Stopping in the living room of the house. The house looks even hotter, but this is not uncommon considering that all the windows are closed. Beams of orange light brighten the white walls. The house is completely unfurnished. There is only one refrigerator off in what is supposed to be the kitchen.

Wilbur stretches on the stairs, but not on. EMF doesn't capture anything.

He walks backwards through the living room, the floor is an imitation wood that makes noise over his sneakers. His steps are interrupted when he hits his back in a closed room and the door opens easily with his weight. It is very quiet. He faces the floor, the door is the boundary of a shiny porcelain floor to a white painted wood.

He tests the weight, the wood looks old and his foot sinks. EMF has no reaction. He should have a reaction. Even if it was day.

Unlike other rooms, this one smells of mold.

Will is startled when he looks ahead. The figure of Toms standing motionless, watching his own feet, in the middle of the empty room. The room has no windows, just a single light turned on in its center, which was probably Tommy himself who called.

He sighs, walking slowly over to the boy he considers his younger brother. This is not as unusual as it sounds.

"Come on, Tommy." Wilbur takes him on Tommy's shoulder and pulls him back.

He doesn't scare, but looks blankly at the wall, his hand looking for Wilbur's. Will grabs his brother's hand and they head outside.

Tommy looks inside again. Wilbur notices how he shudders for a thousandth. They don't hear Phil calling until they're in the car.

* * *

"Just saying, are we going to eat at McDonald's as a last meal forever?" Tommy says, moving a potato chip between his fingers. "We could have, like, Domino's sponsorship, or something."

"No one is going to die, Tommy"

Wilbur chuckles as he eats his own food. Phil by his side giving a brief rebuke to the youngest son.

They are embracing the recurring tradition of eating at McDonald's. Each different place they visit decides to buy a snack from the nearest Mcdonald's - for no reason to be Mcdonald's himself, it was only a request from Tommy when he caught a cold in Canada three years ago.

However, they chose to eat at the restaurant itself because Techno was complaining of seasickness while using the notebook in the car. Wilbur has the luxury of choosing the place and sitting on the sofas he finds comfortable. Techno taking up ¼ of the table with the laptop, wearing bottle-bottom glasses that Wilbur shared and drinking grape soda. Tommy sat next to him, he and Wilbur by the wide window, admiring the traffic and the bright streetlights.

"So why do we keep coming in the same place all the time? Not that I'm complaining." Tommy says, shaking the yellow fries logo cardboard upside-down when he finds nothing in the package.

"You are always complaining." Wilbur speaks. Tommy reaches out to grab his chips from across the table while Will is distracted by the occasional Techno key noises, he slaps Tommy's hand and Tomms frowns.

"This is not true."

"See, you're complaining now."

"I-"

"He's right, Tommy" Phil interrupts for Wilbur to smile in victory and Tommy roll his eyes in annoyance.

Wilbur sees how a battle wins and lowers guard for Tommy. But Wilbur did not expect the kick in the leg of the younger brother, who takes his hands fast on the white cardboard with Wilbur's potatoes and steals them. While the brain processes the kick pain, Tommy is happily eating his food while Philza laughs like a bitch.

"You-" Wilbur sighs not to finish the sentence, but the boy shows his tongue to him like a child.

Will raises his hand to slap Tommy and he reacts by placing his hands in front of his face, protecting the fried cockroaches as one if they are a victim, laughing and finding more fun than scary when Wilbur gets up almost pushing the table to get to it, which shrinks further down. Phil lets the situation run wild, knowing that stopping will not result in anything.

"It's your fault, Wilbur, you who got distracted by Tommy's obvious attack." Techno interrupts, without really looking, the bottle-bottom glasses sliding down his nose.

Wilbur drops his weight and snorts, crosses his arms, sitting hard on the plastic pillow. Phil's hand, on his right, is placed on his shoulder.

"It's okay, son." Phil says still laughing and Wilbur scoffs as Tommy lies down on his own seat, the ones on the couch and his knees bent up.

"That's right, Techno! Tell him!" He screams, none of them really bother about it.

"Don't involve me in this." Techno speaks, completely dead inside, as Techno was born to be. He seems suddenly very satisfied, a caged pride that he released without consent. The white light of the laptp against his face illuminates him and Wilbur can see the slight sadness of the achievement as well.

Wilbur has spent a lot of time with his family, really. He has understood too many expressions in a short period of time.

"HE!" Techno exclaims, in a monotone voice coming out a little more alive, however he does not continue. All of them with a focus on Techno who, obviously, did not notice all the looks directed at him. "What?" Techno asks who feels the burning eyes on him.

"Aren't you going to share your great discovery?" Wilbur; debauchery in its purest category.

"Not really." Techno says, Tommy snorts. "But since you insist."

Techno squints and shows the laptp screen. There are several pages open, so many that only the icon appears, not their nomenclatures, but what he shows is from a news story, a familiar face is shown in the image and he can feel Phil's displeasure when he recognizes the person immediately. The source of the report is from a website called G1 and the page is translated by Google itself.

"Thales de Araújo is suspected of Thiago's death." Techno reads briefly, the reading tone being different from your usual speech. He takes off his glasses and hits him on the table. "Apparently, Thiago was not a resident of the condominium, he was a homeless child who used to steal houses and hide inside them. He was found dead."

He doesn't need to add anything. No joke. No comment on the blanket they were going to burn that night.

They are silent as Techno bites the rim of the Styrofoam cup with his deceased grape soda.

Okay, 'deceased' was the worst word to use. Wilbur isn't to blame for his brain being a little morbid.

These are the moments when their work becomes very real. Dealing with ghosts and how to try to understand a surrealist painting. Cruel. Literal. Very, very palpable. Because everything transcribed makes sense. It is the opposite of surreal, it is true and tangible, but it is so distant. When they have to deal with death for so long, it becomes something very figurative, this is one of the things that they grew up and froze in time, to stop seeing spirits as people; is one of the things that Tommy never managed to do.

Ghosts were treated as belief and myth. A story, until tales of terror began to take over the world, spirits and death and the taste of bitterness deep in the throat. When the years went by it brought so much resentment and pain that injury and pending left people stuck in a page that was torn from them.

It was always one of the things he thinks about Techno after bad cases and sleepless nights, when one of them got hurt so badly they didn't sleep a wink until he was sure he would wake up the next morning.

Ghosts wouldn't exist if people were less bad.

It is hard. Real and surreal at the same time. It's their life, the difference was that Wilbur chose it.

"Well, that was kind of obvious." Tommy covers the silence. Wilbur is startled, thinking for a moment that he ended up meditating aloud until he realized that he, Tommy, was referring to information that Technoblade said earlier. Then let out a breath.

"I know." Techno frowns in an expression of tiredness and annoyance, sighing deeply before continuing. "It's just that he was acquitted for lack of evidence and I got all of it in less than an hour."

"Congratulations, son." Phil replies blandly.

"At your service." Techno responds, again to the laptp. Closing page by page of research, on sites that Wilbur is sure that they would know their credit card number if they registered.

"Wait, wait, wait." Tommy interrupts. "Don't the police work around here?" Tommy questions and Phil exclaims his son's name in quick rebuke.

Wilbur can't help but let a smile come. The innocence of Tommy's brief. I mean, do the math, the wealthy man who owns a condo kills a child younger than his younger brother - Wilbur felt goose bumps when he realized - it doesn't take much for him to be cleared or the case forgotten, especially when the child doesn't have a family. He's very lucky when Wilbur looks that way.

"Well, that's not our problem." Techno closes the laptp with a low click and he hears a sigh next to him.

They just don't want to think about it too much.

Techno watches Tommy, the boy lying on the bench holding the rest of the fries and looking a little sad - which Technoblade readily disapproves of. Watching reality fall on Tommy's shoulders can be fun, but sometimes it's just a little cruel and sad.

Technoblade in all its glory, snatches the bag of chips from Tommy's hands, which turns red when he admits he gave a thin cry for fright. Techno stands tall while Tommy tries to jump up to catch him.

Phil is having a fit of laughter that is much better than his serious and slightly worried face. Wilbur tries to hide his laughter when Techno exclaims a loud ' _Revenge_!' looking at Wilbur.

"I avenged you, Wilbur. Now you owe me twenty dollars."

"This is not how revenge works, Technoblade."


	2. Lunam Rubrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second ago, Wilbur was petrified. A second later, Wilbur was holding a gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was so bad to write, for some reason. I think I was more frustrated than I should be.
> 
> Hey, did you know that the ADHD brain needs is dopamine deficient? Then please how about helping me with this with a comment?
> 
> (Summary:
> 
> \- upper membrane: world of the living;  
> \- lower membrane: ghosts trapped in limbo, where they have no physical connection with the world of the living.)

It's half past four in the morning when they get home. And in one thing, Wilbur was right, it's suspiciously hot.

He almost drowns in the SBI's printed blue silk coat. The collar of the jacket comes close to his mouth and Wilbur is about to bite it. They're forced by Phil to use - which was useful most of the time, especially for identification. But now it’s just too suffocating and imprisoning. He gasps and leans close to the lamp post as soon as he's out of the car. The region was dark and the white lighting didn't seem to be enough. Wilbur shakes himself with his jacket looking for freshness, but only warm air is directed at his face.

He does't sweat, but wipes his forehead with his fingers, the discomfort of the heat makes his skin burn and sew, Phil, a little distant, copies the gesture while rummaging through the backpacks.

The drive home was smooth and there was nothing could do to understand that they would do illegal things in the eyes of justice. They spent more time admiring the urban part of the city, yielding to buy some souvenirs that they would forget as soon as they boarded the plane - ironic, isn't it? - due to the somewhat childish insistence of Technoblade and Tommy;

_("Please, Wilbur, just a soap bubble gun"_

_"Yes! You are so boring, Wilby.”_

_“I hate each of you. They are wiping out my money.”_

_“Be less responsible next time.”)_

Despite the fact that more secluded or rural places are naturally more threatening, in this condominium, everything seemed dead. The empty, morbid houses, the beauty of the sunlight is nothing compared to what the houses seem to show. It was flashy, distressing.

The moon shines at the top of the sky in its splendor, full and crystalline.

The pole flashes.

Wilbur rested his fingers on the EMF, anxious, heat upset his stomach and an inexplicable tingling while his other hand held the liter of gas. His belt, however, held two loaded pistols within easy reach, one with real bullets and one with coarse salt bullets.

Even though Phil would die before letting them shoot a person.

Tommy walks from Phil to him, carrying only a salt gun and the strongest flashlight they have - Phil and Wilbur refused to hand him a real pistol, even though Technoblade doesn't give any morals, with the argument: ' what will he do wrong with a gun? Shoot someone? ' He absently hands the radio to Wilbur, playing with the clean light of the flashlight. Wilbur visits Tommy's eyes, the amusement from boredom and those ocean blue eyes that he could see above the upper membrane that is the world of living people; bright and very young. He has a moment of comparison with Tommy staring at the wall, looking null. He shivers.

Tommy did not choose this profession. Perhaps none of them would actually have preferred a life of travel and life on the edge - or dealing with death so closely that it was definitely the worst part of the job. But while Wilbur and the others have the choice in their hands, Tommy cannot escape death.

He decides to keep Tommy close. Wilbur puts his right hand on his shoulder, he jumps and leans slightly closer, but Will isn't sure that Tommy noticed his own reaction.

Techno takes his own radio and adjusts the frequency, the ultraviolet light does not reach the house even when it is switched on, he is sitting on the roof of the car as if his weight were an illusion of gravity. If he smashes the roof of this car, Phil will definitely kill him. He unzipped the blue jacket, a white band around the hem of the fabric and the zipper cut the word ѕʙɪ in the letter ʙ in the middle. Techno is really very distracted, Wilbur risks that he did not take the ADHD drugs. He begins to play with his weight, swinging on the car hood with his legs bent, looking home through it. Then he needs to thrash his arms hard to center himself when he almost falls backwards.

Wilbur laughs and glances at Tommy who is not paying attention.

Phil leans back against the car door, a loaded gun and a radio in his hand, so he tests the radio. Nobody really chose him to be the leader, Phil is just old. However Phil had something that none of them shared, even if Phil was not the most beautiful talking or even convincing, if this man tells you to jump off the bridge, you should certainly do that.

Or they just have a lot of confidence with each other. One of those options.

"All right with the radio, then." Phil says.

Techno mumbles an answer that they can't hear, luckily, they are fluent in the language of Technoblade's grumbling, so they know it's an affirmative. He puts a hand on the hood of the car and throws the body out, falling without much pressure on the ground. Tommy finally stares, and lets out a huffed 'show' that makes a mocking smile blossom on Techno.

Wilbur feels the tension thickening, Wilbur remains still even when Tommy walks and is trapped by Will's warm grip on his shoulder. He tries to reorganize himself, because all his intuition doesn't want Tommy to enter the house. Burn.

"Will?" Tommy's voice is weak, but it is enough.

"Techno, did the news comment on where the child was hiding?" Wilbur asks.

"No, why?" Techno stops at the curb. Phil slowing down behind him; a slight concern beneath the words. While Will had his actively concerned and gentle way of dealing with Tommy, Techno was slow and subtle, the kind of whether you know if he's really being nice or just a fever dream. Despite this, they had their own non-verbal language to signal if something was wrong between them.

Phil was a little more disconnected, so he usually needed to be signaled.

Not that Phil was a bad father, he definitely isn't, he can comfortably do anything for them, without even needing a bureaucratic and biological connection behind it.

They're Tommy's siblings, that was different.

"Tommy had a… moment." Wilbur says, he doesn't lose the way his voice kind of falters and how Techno sets up his stance in another way.

Phil's brow furrows. "What do you mean a moment?"

"It was not a _'moment'."_ Tommy pushes himself out of Wilbur's handshake, pushing himself angrily forward. "I was just looking at the wall, nothing that impressive."

"Oh, so just a normal Tommy moment." Phil says.

Tommy snorts home and Phil goes to him to ruffle his hair in a half hug that Tommy tries to escape, while leaning over Phil.

Wilbur can almost see little ten-year-old Tommy, too short for them to imagine he would be so tall in the present, hanging from Wilbur and Phil's legs when he felt particularly ignored.

Phil rests his arm on Tommy's tense shoulders. It was never simple. They cross the street.

Techno waits for Wilbur at the curb, so they start walking next to each other while the other two are arriving at the gaping gate.

It's still very hot. He's sure it can't be any worse inside. He's not sweating and this is considered a red emergency light. If the ghost is a demon he'll lose his mind, Wilbur swears. But the EMF does not beep.

"The room was completely empty. The floor was just different and old wood." Wilbur comments, Techno seems distant, but when does he not appear normally? He knows he's being heard.

"Maybe it's upstairs, there's really no way of knowing." Techno seems to sound even more hoarse.

"I'll stay with him downstairs, I doubt he'll stop thinking about it if I don't take him there." Wilbur sighs, Techno nods. "Phil and you upstairs, the blanket will probably be there. You can take the can of gas."

Techno agrees.

They step into the yard and Wilbur takes his foot off immediately, almost startled, throws himself back and almost knocks Techno down with him. The grass behaves like thick lava. He pays attention and Phil's slightly out of breath and with Tommy holding his shoulder tightly.

Oh, how Wilbur was terribly wrong. Everything was so hot, boiling like a sauna.

The backyard of the house is like fire under your feet. The boulders that imitate gravel are small magma stones, they shatter like earth, they melt like ice. The grass is warm on its own and the soles of your feet cry under the sock.

Wilbur rolls up his sleeves.

Techno, however, seems to want to ignore the situation as much as possible. He takes the liter of gasoline from Wilbur's slightly disturbed hands and hands it to Phil who separates from Tommy on contact to cock the gun. He can see how confused Phil is for a moment before the performance. He pulls his coat forward, trying his hardest not to feel hanged by the fabric itself and grabs the handle of the liter until his knuckles turn yellow.

Techno flashes the ultraviolet flashlight and keeps the radio in his coat pocket.

When Wilbur said that Tommy's flashlight is the best they have, it is because it is the only flashlight for their lighting factor today.

(He will not say that it is his fault that the last lantern is broken; it is the fault of the wall on which the lantern struck.

But he also won't say that PHIL was the one who forgot to buy a flashlight.

Yes, we are not judging anyone here.)

Wilbur goes into training first, the mode: professional ghost hunter kicks in when he throws the radio in his pocket and frees up space in the hand he was sharing with the EMF. Wilbur holds the gun and doesn't shake. Techno enters the house, quick steps past Wilbur; silently; Wilbur being your cover in the open space of the room. The flashlight flies close to the gun and he hits the floor of the house a few times to receive some indirect human movement response. The deafening silence leads Phil to join Techno, Phil is, literally, professional, Wilbur would not be able to carry a weapon with the skill that Phil has or even trained for another three hundred years. Tommy enters shortly afterwards when Wilbur relaxes his shoulders - then Techno, with all his dignity, sticks to Phil.

And Phil may be distracted, but he's definitely not an idiot. Techno may be subtle in care, but it is also openly efficient, which means that its subtlety is not at all useful. He knows he'll need to give up Tommy this time, for Wilbur's sanity.

"Whatever happens, I want you on the radio, Wilbur. Tommy is under your responsibility." Phil warns. Wilbur responds with a wave. "Good".

"Don't die, idiots" Techno says one last time. Suspiciously quiet when they're on duty.

They go up the stairs, crawling like snakes, because they are both too quiet to track. To your knowledge, playing any game with Technoblade becomes a game of cat and mouse.

While Wilbur sees the purple light fading into the dark, Tommy is faithfully looking into the room. Blue eyes losing their shine in the shadows of the dark house.

The door was closed, it's the first thing Wilbur thinks about when he looks at Tommy, and Wilbur feels himself trembling under his skin because he realizes that he didn't close it when they left, despite everything looking the same. He couldn't be exactly logical when he is at that level of professionalism.

Not being afraid is how you die.

He takes Tommy's arm with unnecessary gentleness. His brother scares, anyway, he jumps out of his bones and sighs.

"Let's get this over with, Tommy."

Tommy doesn't speak, he launches himself. Tommy practically throws himself into the empty room, his noisy steps make Wilbur go to the radio in a quick confirmation that everything was fine, in which Phil replies that there is one more floor in the house where they will investigate that very second; with the sound of Tommy opening the back door wide open.

Wilbur walks with the EMF in hand, he passes the room and sighs when the room is very cold compared to anywhere else. It's cold and makes the coat worthwhile. The thermal shock is such that he finally feels perspiration, and automatically lets his guard down, he gets too tired. As if all your tension was drained magically. Wilbur throws the EMF up, looking for any interaction in this cold environment.

Nothing.

It's frustrating.

Whatever it was, it was nowhere to be found, or too concentrated somewhere. If they could take a chance, Wilbur would say that the object to be burned was not even close to where the ghost really lives. Perhaps, if they were lucky, they would not even find the entity wandering. And perhaps the feeling that Tommy expressed was not for the spirit itself, but for the place of death. 

It wouldn't be the first time, anyway. About a year ago, they visited a church that needed to be torn down. The place was old, falling apart and taking up government space. The abandonment occurred after a former priest organized a mass suicide with members of the cult, as a sacrifice to the Christian God. And even with the altar wood breaking underfoot, Tommy spent two of the two and a half hours walking on the altar. There was nothing there, they needed to burn the damp carpet all over the floor, and when the last thread evaporated into smoke, Wilbur has the perfect vision of seeing his brother falling sideways, the sound of the fifteen-year-old TommyInnit crashing into old wood because, for him, it was too much pressure to take.

Techno discovered that it was there where everything was organized. Tommy already knew. No ghosts crossed their path that day. However, perhaps it would have been better if you crossed.

Wilbur goes to the brick fireplace, he kneels on the cold carpet so that his arm can get in high enough for the EMF to beep on something.

The EMF beeps for a fraction of a second. Wilbur's heart freezes when he hears a thump.

He almost breaks his arm as quickly as he intended to rip the arm off the fireplace. Wilbur traps his elbow and shoulder and he can already feel the beginning of a bruise forming in these points of the body. He holds the EMF with his life, he may even end up cracking the glass with force. Wilbur takes his arm off the fireplace and his brain runs into the error that he didn't inform anyone upstairs that something was wrong. It didn't even cross your mind. He just concentrates on running stumbling into the empty room where he heard the noise of something that could be very threatening to his younger brother and Wilbur knew that his intuition would not fail about it.

He stops at the door.

"Tommy?" his voice comes out very weak, very childish, as if he were a child who just saw something he shouldn't have.

Tommy does not answer. Tommy is sweating and potentially watering. He is not shaking, however, with no indication of a possible panic attack - in which it is also partially common - no, he seems disturbed. Agitated and afraid. Wilbur would suspect that this was not Tommy, so they would be in trouble; but no, he knows that his younger brother is there, because the EMF manifested itself in that very second and nothing else. The EMF will always, in all cases, beep during possession.

"Tommy?"

**“- Guys, did you find anything? It's empty here. ”**

Phil's voice sounds very loud, made Wilbur wince when he is interrupted. He doesn't answer the radio, he leaves it to the duo to draw their own conclusions.

Tommy spins the room for a while. Wilbur wants to get you out of here. It is very hot. It's suffocating too much. He opens his lips in intervention. So Tommy moves so abruptly that Wilbur needs to deny that he was startled.

Tommy stops in the middle of the room and raises his knee at chest level. He throws all the weight in a single kick and he mainly hears the crack of wood. Wilbur freezes when the EMP comes on, and the buzzing is not fast, or momentary; it is constant, noisy and fills the silence.

**EMF 1.**

Tommy raises his knee in the same way. He steps hypnotized by the way the paint on the white wood of the floor is torn, turning to dust between the soles of his feet.

**EMF 3.**

Wilbur freezes.

He feels petrified by a fear so naive and so tearing that Wilbur is not mature enough to sue. The EMF reaches five before Tommy's foot comes close to touching the ground. The wood bursts. It explodes. Then Tommy's leg is sucked into the broken floor. Wilbur is terrified while watching.

Tommy screams. Thin and fast. Easily skippable. The flashlight flies to the other side of the room, it turns to show the scene unfolding. The panic in their eyes is relentless. The door behind Wilbur slams twice and he feels helpless.

Tommy slips deeper into the floor. Wilbur's mind pops when Tommy sighs. The arms that were lifting him off the ground stopped shaking, Tommy was so pale, so weak.

A second ago, Wilbur was petrified. A second later, Wilbur was holding a gun.

He throws his weight to the floor, He kneels beside his brother, the splinters of wood cutting his skin under his jeans, He swings one arm around Tommy's waist when his hip is already sunk beneath the broken wood, the Wilbur's heart speeds up many more times when Tommy just falls on his shoulder, he doesn't have enough time to rationalize how well - or badly - Tommy is breathing. The sound of the EMF in the background scares him, Wilbur must have played it in his torpor. He stayed at five. Wilbur can't stop hearing the sound.

Wilbur can swear he felt something move under the floor. He pulls Tommy and his brother grunted in pain. Tommy's weight is irrelevant when his adrenaline is so high. And he is terrified of how limp Tommy is in his arms. The door slams and locks. They hear thumps from the floor. Beats angry punches. Feet dragging. Wilbur holds the gun and shoots.

It's three shots until the EMF stops. The noise is very loud and he is not sure whether he held the salt gun or the real bullet gun, which they are not really allowed to use; but it is irrelevant to that point. Wilbur takes the radio, he throws the gun to the floor.

"Out. Out. OUT. **OUT**." The volume of Wilbur's voice rises as desperation for understanding rises through his head. Wilbur is not afraid. He is in decline from the horrified.

Wilbur kicks the door. The wood fails and crashes into a hole. He runs his hand and unlocks the door through the handle on the outside. And when they are free, Wilbur holds Tommy in both arms, as if his brother will evaporate if Wilbur loosens his grip. They pass through the front door, and have no time to hear any commotion from upstairs.

The asphalt is much colder than before, Wilbur notes almost absently. He drops to his knees on the floor and releases Tommy sitting on the curb.

Tommy can hardly stand it. He supports himself sitting with his hands. Eyes unfocused on some thought that Wilbur can't read at this point.

The first thing Wilbur notices is blood staining Tommy's shirt. The pants crumbling in tears that hadn't been there before.

"Take off your pants." Wilbur commands.

Tommy's limbs weigh like lead. He fell forward and his arms began to move very slowly to reach the button of his pants. Wilbur doesn't have much patience anymore. He puts his hand on the edge of his pants and pulls it off. The dress comes out easier than he imagines and Tommy goes back to the previous position.

His calves are marked by long, fickle scratches that appear to be made by small hands. Like a cat. Wilbur goes over to the blood ball on Tommy's shirt and raises the edge. It is an ugly grate, small balls of blood that have mixed into a solid shape. But nothing too bad. Even though Tommy looks so exhausted. But your eyes shine with fire.

"I found it, Will." Tommy says quietly, as if his voice has broken. Wilbur swallows dry. “I knew it was there. I was not wrong. ”

"Tommy." he says Tommy's name almost mercifully. "Yes. You're right. But we can work this out tomorrow, Toms. You are clearly hurt.

Tommy looks at Wilbur with such disappointment that Wilbur feels himself staring at Phil.

"What? Not! We need to go back. ”

"It's not worth it, Tommy."

Tommy growls, but before he replies he chokes. They hear Phil's worried voice from across the street. The tension at the moment seems to be so great that it can be broken like glass after a bullet shot. A Technoblade walks with a gallon of gas behind it, transparent with emotions. Wilbur can't think long enough when Phil practically plays against him.

Wilbur wraps his arms around Phil and buries his face in his borrowed dad's dirty blond hair. Wilbur's shaking, three steps from an overload. He'll sleep for days.

“We were stuck in the attic. I'm so sorry. We couldn't get out and I could only hear the shots. I'm so sorry." Phil was frantic and Wilbur's words died buried in his brain; so he just walks away and points at Tommy on the floor, he looks desolate and confused in some way that Wilbur can't explain. Techno then takes over from Phil with Wilbur and Phil launches similarly to his youngest son. Tommy curls up in it.

Techno takes his shoulder, his gaze asks for an explanation, but he knows that Technoblade's impatience and concern will not interrupt his moment of processing all the information.

Tommy, however.

"Phil." Tommy says. Phil steps away from the embrace to sit on the curb with his whole body turning to Tommy. "It was there. I knew it was there. He was so angry. ” Tommy looks bleak.

"What happened?" Phil is the one who breaks the walls.

"The EMF suddenly blew its whistle." Wilbur begins; the tension in the hurt voice. "I went to the bedroom and Tommy was beside himself, breaking the floor." Tommy tries to scold Will, but Phil places a finger next to Tommy's lips to shut him up. “Then the wood broke below him and he was sucked in. The energy was so heavy and there was so much noise. I couldn't move. It was too much for too long. Tommy stopped struggling and I panicked. I tried to get it out of the hole in the floor and the door locked. I needed to shoot, Phil. ”

"Will, it's fine." Techno says it. Bumping into Wilbur's shoulder.

Tommy sighs on the floor, making it clear how ridiculous the scene looks. He's just in his underwear and his pants are lying on the floor nearby. His grates still bleed, but to a lesser extent, Tommy crossed his legs at some point, but he doesn't let the grates get close to the asphalt. Phil is dirty with dust and Wilbur still has splinters of paint on his clothes, and the purples on his arms are turning green, he feels a tingling in his left knee.

“I found the blanket down there. I'm not sure how I saw it, but I know it's there. There are not several entities, it is one. ” Tommy says it clearly. "Wilbur, we need to go back."

"No." Wilbur says.

"Wilbur!" Tommy says.

"Listen, Tommy, I have my arm and my knee hurting, and I intend to have just those injuries for today." Wilbur manages to watch the guilt rise in Tommy's expression, which, of course, was not the goal, but he would be satisfied if he could keep Tommy quiet.

"Where did you get hurt?" Techno says. "Let me see."

"I'm fine." Wilbur says.

He turns his arm to Techno, who looks a little upset to see the purple marks rising up his elbow.

"This alone will not kill you." Techno mumbles and Wilbur rolls his eyes.

"Tommy, we should go back to the hotel." Phil says gently, rubbing circles with his thumb on Tommy's shoulder. “We can solve this tomorrow. We know where the blanket is, anyway. And ghosts are much weaker during daylight.

"No way!" Tommy stubbornly and Wilbur grumbles angrily. “It's so close, Phil. We need to get this over with quickly. There's no reason for us to leave. ”

"Tommy-" Phil tries.

"- we need to stay." Tommy says.

"Why?" Wilbur questions. He notices the words dying in Tommy's throat, twisting in his brain.

(Often, they just need to be reminded of why they are there - working with ghosts, with death, is flashy and engaging, easy to get lost in.)

When Tommy doesn't speak, Wilbur continues, "I don't even know what happened to you, Tommy, you were fine at one point and the next I wasn't sure if you were breathing while I was carrying you!"

Suddenly Tommy looks so sad.

"Will," Tommy's voice fails. “He was so close. I could feel what he felt, that child was so sad, Wilbur. I will not be able to stop thinking about it. ”

Phil goes around Tommy's waist and pulls him closer. The silence hurts.

Wilbur doesn't want to give in.

Tommy is injured and has a powerful entity in an underground room that shouldn't have existed. But they know it is true, that Tommy will not rest while he is so close to freeing someone who is suffering. Tommy is empathetic to dead people, far more than any respect they might ever have, perhaps because Tommy could really describe clearly every feeling they brought. Pain, regret, trauma, everything so close that Tommy could touch it with his hands. His brother would stay up at dawn, without eating, nightmares hanging over his eyes until it was too much for him. They've seen this show before. To see a person decomposing for something that cannot escape.

It's cruel.

"I think we should go back." Wilbur stares, betrayed, at the owner of the answer, Technoblade, who watches the house with an empathic ghost covering his pupils. “I believe in Tommy, if he says it's the best way, we can do it." It's not the all true. Techno is just concerned, the only reason he acttualy says he trusts Tommy.

"I lost my gun in there as well." Wilbur complements, the most he will get from a surrender.

Phil then changes his posture. He gets up and hands Tommy up with him. Tommy holds his hands and limps when on top, his legs feel like gelatin and he feels a little numb from the adrenaline rush, Wilbur thinks.

"Before we go, let's get you some shorts." Phil took Tommy to the car.

Wilbur watched them walk away, Tommy limping and Phil wrapping his arms around his son. Tommy melted to the touch, Phil buried his son's head in his chest, not caring that Tommy was much taller.

Techno touches his shoulder.

"Come on, I need to get the gallon of gas in there." Techno says. "Phil dropped it down the stairs accidentally."

And although it's true. Wilbur knows it's true. He recognizes all the nuances of Technoblade when he wants to take a lighter approach.

They walk into the house. The weather is much softer than before, though. The silence hung and it was much colder than before. Not like the living room, which was as cold as a freezer. But like the muffled air of a rainy day. Wilbur goes to the stairs and grabs the liter of gasoline, when he turns around, he comes across a Technoblade with half open arms, waiting for him.

Wilbur is slightly startled, but smiles. He throws himself at his older brother, puts his head on Techno's shoulder and wraps his arms under his armpits. Techno just lowers his arms, without really returning the gesture. Because these are the embraces of Technoblade, which has a social energy below zero, and who doesn't know exactly how to comfort a person, but it works. They are used to Techno's kind of affection, where it starts and when it is returned, it pretends it never happened. Wilbur has fun with all the affection he has to give.

"Then Tommy is our clingy one." Techno says.

Wilbur laughs. "Yes, I think so." When Wilbur lets go of Techno's pseudo-embrace.

"Are you alright?" Techno says with a frown.

"I will stay."

“It takes more than one ghost to wipe out your energy, Wilbur. Lets do this." The tone's sarcasm makes Wilbur laugh, tired but with humor.

"I don't think so, man, one is already doing enough damage." Wilbur replies. "I'm going to sleep for two days." he complements.

"Loser."

"Shut up, dude."

"Uh... Are you ready?" Phil's voice sounds behind him, Wilbur smiles dirty when he sees Techno jumping.

Tommy and Phil are at the front door.

Tommy is wearing a pair of denim shorts now, a bandage around the calf of one leg. The right knee has a band-aid. Wilbur considers it almost a waste of medical supplies, but he knows that Phil tends to exaggerate when he is worried. This action is clear when Phil holds his youngest son's hand like a frightened child - in fact, he wouldn't be impressed if it was Tommy himself who started the gesture.

Techno passes him, hitting his shoulder more as a chance than with malice. Tommy launches himself at Wilbur, his eyes saying more than any other word they could work on now.

(I didn't mean to upset you, I didn't want to hurt you either. But you know why I'm doing this, why we need to finish this job.)

The group gathers in front of the door to the small empty room. The door is closed again. Wilbur knows he hasn't closed it before.

"The door closed on its own." It's Tommy who says it. Wilbur shudders.

Tommy steals one of his hands in a childlike silent protection grip. (Which confirms his previous thesis)

Techno looks at the hole in the door. A look is given to Wilbur who shrugs. Phil steals the gallon from Will's hand. Phil is always the one with the matches, so it's not a big issue. Techno spies the hole. The flashlight is still on, pointing to a hole in the floor, which is dark by the shadows. The room does not emit sound.

Techno, more experienced, raises his leg and kicks the handle. The door flies forward and crawls on the floor. The EMF hums and the flashlight flashes until it fails because of the action. Whatever it was, I wanted to be left alone. Wilbur begins to manufacture the noises from before in his head, the thoughts planning a thousand and one different escapes, in which he will not really be able to execute.

Always like that, with very strong entities. It is unbearable to remain in the same environment. Fear becomes a tool of the spirit itself. Wilbur knows that staying in a room alone would not lead him to a state of panic similar to this one - perhaps it would lead Tommy, for his claustrophobia -, it is all fabrication. Supernatural defense mechanisms that are very biological.

They have studied this with Techno, at some point. Some people are more curious about how the spirits trapped in our world behave biologically with living beings and nature is interesting. Increased blood flow. Panic attack symptoms. Induction to psychological diseases.

Anything that can be treated as a consequence, be a symptom.

"This is deeper than it looks," Techno whispers, crouched close to the ground that broke below Tommy. Wilbur's stomach bubbles when he unconsciously gets close to Techno - the instinct to protect being stronger than to flee.

Not that Techno needed protection, but it is unconscious.

(Technoblade is scary).

Tommy sits on the floor, opposite Techno, and puts his palms under the floor and pulls him up. The wood breaks in a crack and slips through your fingers, hitting the floor and raising dust in the darkness in the lower room. Wilbur looks wide-eyed at Tommy who shrugs, the action bringing a cloudy smile to Techno's face. Phil makes a request for care as he spins around them and, against all common sense, he takes the flashlight and throws it inside.

"PHIL?" It is Tommy who exclaims. The flashlight flashes and goes out when it falls to the ground.

"Okay, I don't know why I thought this would work." Phil lets out a laugh and tries to hide other remnants of laughter that end up coming out between his fingers.

The flashlight comes on.

"No way." Tommy looks more admired than really upset.

"Never doubt Philza Minecraft's skills." Wilbur laughs when Phil is clearly embarrassed by the mention of the name.

"Light for the Light God." Techno says between contained laughter and Phil's hissing laugh is all they need. Tommy laughs really loud. Wilbur has a silent agreement that they prefer it that way.

Techno breaks some more wood, the quiet work so that the hole has enough space for everyone to enter. It wasn't such a difficult job for Wilbur and Tommy, but they didn't even have to ask if they could go down alone, as Phil would never in his life ever leave after what happened. And when it's wide enough, Techno jumps first, with an exclamation from everyone when Technoblade seems too focused to remember to warn before taking such a sudden move. Tommy follows the pace, he sits at the sharp wooden door and jumps inside. Wilbur doesn't have much sense of space when the only light available to them is at such a bad angle.

When Wilbur jumps, he almost slips on the dirt floor. As if the place had been dug. Wilbur has the impression that it was not really a planned space. He shivers at the thought of the child: alone, being locked up and killed in a warm room underground. And finally, the temperature makes a lot of sense in the narrative, since the place where the ghost died is naturally warm. Phil leaps after him, dropping an oof- which makes Will smile. The walls seem to have been made, also with wood, placing the material on the earth to cover it. And everything in that space is completely disturbing.

But the thing that strikes you the most is how focused Tommy looks with the dirty rag on the floor.

Techno is looking amazed and basically calling for an intervention from someone who knows what he is doing. Then Wilbur looks at Phil, slightly lost. Phil snorts lovingly and approaches Tommy, who jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder.

"God, this is making me sick." Tommy makes a face.

He moves behind Wilbur, almost leaning against the wall. Techno kicks in, sneaking into the water-green blanket that is thrown on the floor. Phil next to him, he starts pouring gasoline from the canister onto the plush fabric, slightly asking Techno to walk away.

Then the upstairs door jumps.

Wilbur trembles and none of them feel entitled to move.

They can hear footsteps walking slowly in the front room, and they slightly regret not taking salt. The EMF whistles at its maximum, and Wilbur is surprised to find Tommy grabbing his hand.

They hear the sound of breaking glass. The EMF dies.

_Fuck._

Wilbur and Tommy see dust rising in front of them, also rising when they went downstairs. Tommy chokes.

Phil puts his hands in his pockets and practically pulls Technoblade behind him. Fingers fumbling in his pockets for the matchbox. When he finds, the smile of relief rising on his face, Phil is thrown back. The old wood breaking when your body's shock hits it. Phil just grunts, conscience escaping between his fingers.

Techno throws himself at Phil. A protective gleam in their eyes as they hear the wood on the walls crack and shatter under sheer pressure, as if the whole environment had been diminishing.

It's too noisy. Wilbur can't move.

Tommy launches through him. The already shredded knee cuts even further when he gropes the floor on his knees looking for matches, and when he doesn't find it, Tommy does the only thing his brain tells him to react to.

He holds the blanket by the ends and tears it in the middle.

Wilbur swallows a sob.

The smell of dead meat permeates the room. It smells like trash and rotten water, rising up on the floor. It wraps the stomach.

Tommy just released the ghost to the world. Breaking, tearing, destroying an object in which an entity is trapped is asking for a time of peace before destruction.

But that is not what Wilbur is concerned about. He feels bile rolling in his stomach when he follows Tommy's terrified eyes and finds a tiny child facing the wall. Your skin is mossy and dirty. He is completely dusty and his straight hair appears to have blood bubbling through the strands. Immobile. Like a photo. Wilbur has a morbid moment to wonder how he died. He really died. But, he doesn't want to stay long enough to find out.

Phil runs forward. Techno almost falls with the brutality of the movement. He has blood staining his blond hair and red almost falling over his eyelids. Your eyes are fierce.

"All of you, out of here." He says aloud, lighting the match with shaking hands. He continues when Techno tries to interrupt behind him. “I will stay here to be sure. But I want you to be in the car when I get back. ”

"No, just let it burn by itself." Techno looks more pleading.

Dirty water starts to rise from the floor and seep from the walls.

"Get out!" Phil's order is final.

Wilbur takes Tommy off the floor by the hip and lifts him up. Tommy leans on the wood on the floor and practically jumps into the tiny room. He holds out his hand, out of sight of Wilbur, offering help; Wilbur accepts and goes up, so they join hands for a very low Technoblade, to be fair. Then they run to the front door.

Passing through the room, Wilbur catches a glimpse of the fireplace on fire. Fuck.

They throw themselves close to the car. Taking a deep, heavy breath. Techno has a gleam of desperation in his eyes, which Wilbur can't really worry about, when his whole body is asking for a while and his brain cries out for a few seconds of silence.

Tommy says something about a knee injury. He asks Techno to look after him more for distraction than really out of necessity.

It takes a few minutes for them to see Phil walking slowly through the door, holding the flashlight from his fingers, bloodier than before. They know that head injuries, no matter how superficial, bleed much more than most, but that is no excuse to stop the worry. And Wilbur is already thinking about where he left Ibuprofen.

Techno tries to hide that he's not basically running for Phil. Wilbur is already practically sleeping on Tommy's shoulder, so Toms doesn't move, and he is very grateful for that.

Wilbur watches Phil approach him, wiping blood from his forehead on his shirt, worry sinks into Wilbur's chest that surrounds Phil in a hug forcing him to sit down, and he definitely won't let Phil drive, so Wilbur needs a few minutes . The lack of adrenaline makes him notice how his knee will swell after all the strokes of the night.

(Should they buy knee pads?)

Techno sits next to Tommy.

They're well. And, to be honest, he doesn't want to be anywhere but this strange family they have set up.

* * *

**extra:**

"Who's going to tell that guy that we broke his ground?"

"Shut up, Tommy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The SBI has such a cool backstory. Especially Phil. Can I end up writing about one day? Perhaps.. Whereas Phil has at least a mysterious past, whereas his son's (Tommy) paranormal and has a very strong connection to ghosts. There're things Tommy can do that I could explore more in other stories, like communicating with dead people and having control over possessions (in himself, obviously.)
> 
> And I'm not even going to start rambling about Technoblade and Wilbur and their dubious kinship source :)


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